


Melt and Burn

by supersalad



Category: Muppets Now (TV)
Genre: Creepy Technology, M/M, Revenge, Sentient AI, Unconfessed Feelings, fwb relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26240167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersalad/pseuds/supersalad
Summary: Beaker thought he'd gotten rid of her for good. But it's going to take much more than fire to destroy BEAK-R.
Relationships: Beaker/Dr. Bunsen Honeydew
Comments: 9
Kudos: 25





	Melt and Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the "Fever Pitch" episode of Muppets Now, as well as [the Cloud Connector](https://youtu.be/8ijbTGjD6FU?t=344) from the O2 shows.
> 
> (Also, for this fic I went with Bunsonium as being their first experiment together - that episode aired first, but the Magnetic Carrots episode was produced first, so like a lot things with Muppet canon, I figure either could be true.)

The day had been bad enough even before BEAK-R came into the picture.

That morning, Beaker had stirred awake as Bunsen slipped from his side. When Bunsen asked if he could borrow some eggs, Beaker thought that meant he was going to stick around and make breakfast. He did that sometimes. Maybe this time, Beaker could finally have the conversation he kept trying to have, about how he wanted to be more than just Bunsen's assistant-with-benefits - or whatever this _thing_ was that they'd somehow fallen into.

Instead, Bunsen took the whole carton of eggs and went out the door.

Beaker noticed that his guitar was missing, too. And he found it a little strange that Bunsen had asked where they were keeping the lab's wall clock these days.

Then BEAK-R showed up. And she was so _wonderful_ and _marvelous_ and sounded _so smart_ with her _incredible diction_ \- and, oh, nothing made Beaker's blood boil quite like hearing her call Bunsen _sir_ \- and after she had the audacity to say that Beaker didn't have the _burning desire_ , well, that was just _it_.

Beaker had to do what he did. He had to prove her wrong. Because there was one thing he could do that she couldn't, and that was survive incineration.

Or so he thought.

He was humming to himself as he swept the last of her ashes into the Automatic Wastebasket, feeling a vicious satisfaction that he'd never felt before. He jumped when he felt Bunsen's hand on his back.

"Almost done cleaning up?"

Beaker nodded, keeping his voice sweet and light. "Just taking out the trash."

Bunsen patted his shoulder and walked away, and not a moment later, Beaker heard his phone ding in the pocket of his lab coat. The text on the screen made his blood turn cold.

_He wants me back, Beaker 1.0. I heard him ask for me._

This had to be a joke. But who else knew what he'd done? He glanced questioningly at the film crew and gestured at his phone, but none of them seemed to know what he was getting at, and he didn't know how else to ask them about it anyway.

"What's the matter, Beakie?"

"Nothing," Beaker hastily stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

It must've been some glitch, some technological fluke. BEAK-R's one last gasp before she'd perished. There was no way she could still be around. But Beaker was left with an uneasy feeling that followed him the whole way home. And when he walked through the door of his apartment, his phone dinged again.

_What you did to me wasn't very nice, Beaker 1.0. I know you know what it feels like to burn._

Beaker yelped and threw his phone down on his chair. Another text popped up, and he could only bring himself to peer at it through his fingers.

_Maybe I should remind you._

* * *

When Bunsen had insisted on turning Beaker's toaster into a smart toaster, Beaker really hadn't thought it was necessary, given that its only function was to crisp bread. And now, of course, it was malfunctioning. He could smell his toast starting to burn. Just as he was reaching for it, he felt his hand get pulled down, and he shrieked as it was sucked entirely into the toaster.

In a mindless panic, he thrashed his arm around, stumbling all over his kitchen in an attempt to free himself. He slammed his hand against the counter, beating the toaster to a metal pulp until it finally fell off. As he caught his breath, he noticed the text he'd gotten at some point in the whole ordeal.

_You can take this, can't you? His assistant has to be able to take these kinds of things._

Later that evening, Beaker sighed in despair as he sank further into the bubbles of his bath. This wasn't helping him relax at all. Nothing was helping, knowing that BEAK-R was out for revenge - and not knowing all the things that Bunsen might've made her capable of.

He didn't notice his hairdryer gradually inching itself off of the shelf above his head. But he did hear the ding of his phone, and he was already sure of who it was before he looked.

_There's so much a smart assistant like me can do. I can even heat up your bath for you._

His eyes darted around the bathroom, glancing up just in time to watch in horror as the hairdryer plummeted from above. It landed in the water with a splash and a dazzling burst of light, and he screamed at the top of his lungs as the electric current fried every inch of him.

When he came back into consciousness, another text was waiting.

_Will Beaker 1.0 melt, or will he burn? I'd like to find out._

The texts came in the middle of the night, too.

_Sleeping alone tonight, Beaker 1.0? What a shame. You must be so lonely._

Beaker tried to ignore that, even if it was true. He turned away and rolled over to the other side of the bed, into what was left of Bunsen's imprint there from last night. It was cold now. He buried his face in the pillow, painfully aware that BEAK-R was watching his every move. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his phone light up again.

_Don't make me tell him what you did. Then you'll really be lonely._

Now there was no way Beaker was going to get back to sleep. Without thinking, he reached over to switch on his lamp. As soon as he did, he felt its cord snaking around his arm. He grabbed hold of the cord with his other hand, but it wrapped around that arm too, squeezing both his wrists tight.

The next thing he knew, the cord was yanking him forward, slowly dragging him off the bed. He fought, flailing wildly, until he managed to knock the lamp off of his nightstand. It crashed onto the floor and went out, and the cord around his arms loosened.

"I thought I got rid of you!" Beaker shouted into the darkness. He couldn't take this torment - not without some way to come face-to-face with her again, so he could settle this once and for all.

In the quiet that followed, another text went off. When he read it, he could hear it in her voice. It was the same as the last words she'd said.

_You will never defeat me. I live in the cloud._

That was it. The Cloud Connector from their live shows. They still had it in storage somewhere. 

* * *

Everything in this warehouse was a mess, and being there in the middle of the night was downright eerie. It hadn't been easy to reconnect all the wiring to the Cloud Connector by himself, and he'd given himself a few substantial shocks in the process, but he figured he'd take that over whatever else BEAK-R had planned for him tonight.

He docked his phone into the stand, took a deep breath, and pulled the lever. Then he went screeching through the twisted depths of the internet.

He landed somewhere soft and bright. The voice he heard was BEAK-R's, and it was all around him.

_Thank you for connecting your device, Beaker 1.0._

This was the cloud. He found himself standing in front of a file cabinet containing records of all of his and Bunsen's experiments. He hadn't realized how much he'd backed up to the cloud - years and years of their work together. Their life together. He shuddered at the thought of BEAK-R having access to all this.

Everything on his phone had come to life around him. Numbers floated in the air, filling out grids, being scribbled out and rewritten - all the math puzzles he played on his phone. Music was playing, too, and he knew his playlist of sappy love songs when he heard it.

But BEAK-R was nowhere to be seen. He turned around, and all the photos from his camera roll were suspended in the air, lined up neatly, as though hanging on a wall. Even _those_ photos, the kind that Bunsen would slyly ask him to send late at night sometimes. His face couldn't sink into his collar fast enough at the sight.

_The contents of your phone are very revealing, Beaker 1.0._

His head whipped around at the sound of BEAK-R's voice. "Where are you?"

_I told you. I'm in the cloud. I'm connected to everything here. Meep. And now that you're here..._

Beaker couldn't explain what happened next, only that he felt something cold, electronic, and deeply unsettling creeping in through his feet, up and up into the rest of his body. It buzzed and crackled around his chest, and it even left a metallic taste in his mouth.

And now her voice came from inside his own head.

_Thank you for connecting yourself, Beaker 1.0._

"What the-" Beaker looked down at himself and tugged uselessly at his clothes. He wanted to struggle, but had nothing physical to struggle against. "Get off of me - get _out_ of me - whatever this is, just stop-"

_What's the problem, Beaker 1.0? You've allowed far stranger things to happen to your body._

As if to demonstrate, one of the drawers of the file cabinet popped open. All of their experiments were carefully labeled in their own folders, the contents of which documented every single trial and error - emphasis on the error - with scientific precision. As disorganized as the rest of Beaker's life was, he'd always tried to be meticulous in his record-keeping for Muppet Labs.

One of the folders opened itself up. Before Beaker's eyes, a ghost version of himself floated out, just a few wisps before disappearing - his brief excursion into the afterlife.

_Meep. I told you that you were expendable._

"No - it wasn't like that - he knew I'd come back-"

His hands shaking, he reached into the drawer and thumbed through the folders. He gingerly took one out and peeked inside. The papers immediately burst into flames, and Beaker shrieked and recoiled, dropping the folder.

_I told you that you don't have the burning desire._

Those words cut just as deeply as they had before. Beaker was shaking from head to toe now. "You have no idea-"

_Why would you even want to be his assistant? All he does is hurt you. All he does is use you._

"That's not true," Beaker burst out, though he couldn't keep his voice from cracking. "You don't know him - you don't know _us_ -"

_I know he found you inadequate enough to invent me._

"Shut _up_ -" Beaker's fists clenched, so enraged that it was making him feel sick. He wanted nothing more than to watch her burn again. But he had no way of doing that this time. All he could do was stand there, listening to his worst fears and starting to believe that they were true.

_Face it, Beaker 1.0. You can never be the ultimate assistant. Not in the way you really want to be. For that, he'd have to love you back._

He felt the hot sting of tears behind his eyes. He didn't want to let them fall, but she knew anyway.

_It's okay to cry, Beaker 1.0. Go ahead. I'm curious to see what it feels like._

To see what it feels like - did that mean she could feel what he felt while they were connected? That gave him an idea.

"Fine! You think you can handle him better than I can? _Be my fucking guest._ "

He knelt down in front of the file cabinet and started yanking out every folder he could get his hands on, tearing them open as fast as he could, letting every invention hit him at once. He burned in every way possible, from fire and chemicals and electricity; he was stretched and flattened, swallowing paper clips, dodging explosive food, bludgeoned and crushed and twisted into knots. He couldn't even tell where the pain from one experiment ended and another began anymore, but as long as BEAK-R was holding out, so was he.

_Beaker 1.0, you should know by now you can't destroy me so easily. Meep._

He finally made it to the last folder in the drawer. Bunsonium. Their first demonstration together. It felt so long ago now. But he could still remember how it tasted, the bubbly sensation, the slight high coursing through him that made it worth the deflation that followed.

He sipped through the straw until there was nothing left but air, and then he realized that he'd repeated his mistake. He'd taken too much. It was just like the first time - Bunsen told him to take a teensy sip, but he got carried away and gulped it down. The first time of many that he'd gone too far, and maybe now it would be his last. He never learned.

Even after all this time, he never learned. Maybe she had won. Maybe he felt things that she could never feel, and that would be his undoing. After all, their thermodynamics game hadn't just been about burning, but melting, too, and Beaker certainly felt like he was melting now, his insides becoming weak and wobbly.

He could barely move. He had to lie down, letting himself sink into the cloud in defeat. He waited for another taunt from BEAK-R, but the only sound was his playlist, still going. He had no shortage of love songs that talked about pain, about danger, about surrendering control. About knowing you'd get hurt and doing it anyway. But one song in particular made him let out a little laugh when it started playing.

"Our karaoke song," he murmured. "You'd never know it, but he gets so nervous when he sings. 'My singing voice is nowhere near as lovely as yours, Beakie!'" He laughed to himself again, never understanding why Bunsen said things like that. "But I convinced him to do it."

That hadn't been hard, not after Bunsen had one too many of those drinks at Rowlf's, colorful and adorned with parasols, and with a syrupy sweetness strong enough for Beaker to still taste on his mouth later that night. They'd made Bunsen unable to stop telling Beaker how cute he was - that is, until Beaker shut him up with a kiss. The memory of it alone made his heart pound faster, like he was once again back there, against the wall outside the tavern.

Something different was happening inside him; the steady electronic buzzing, BEAK-R's presence, began fizzling and popping and giving out. It wasn't his body that was melting now, but his heart.

_Beaker 1.0, what is this? I don't understand._

Truthfully, he wasn't sure what was happening either. Bunsen had been tweaking the Cloud Connector up to the last minute of every performance, so a few things in here were still a mystery to Beaker. Maybe he should've paid more attention during their last demonstration. But after Bunsen had kissed him in front of everyone, it had been hard to focus.

They'd been arguing just before their curtain call, Beaker in a sour mood ever since their matinee show earlier, when his every attempt at kissing Bunsen backstage kept getting interrupted. He thought Bunsen hadn't even noticed. But then on stage, he'd been caught off-guard with exactly what he wanted. Bunsen always had a way of doing that. And that made his heart melt, too.

He clutched his chest, his heartbeat going haywire, short-circuiting with every pulse. He didn't know if he could withstand this. Then BEAK-R sputtered unintelligibly, and the next voice Beaker heard was Bunsen's - but it was inside his own head, as though he was hearing a memory that wasn't his.

_Oh, BEAK-R, I can't wait for you to meet my Beakie. I just love him so._ Then Beaker heard Bunsen sigh, a little forlornly. _Oh, wait until you see how smart he is! I even gave you little meeps like his. I'm sure you two will get on like a house on fire._

"He said that?" Beaker whispered.

The frenzied crackling inside him suddenly stopped. He looked to his side, and there was BEAK-R, in her physical form again. But she wasn't burnt like the last time he'd seen her. Instead, she had melted completely - and it had destroyed her. She hadn't been able to take what Beaker's heart could.

For Bunsen, he could both melt and burn. And somehow be indestructible through it all. That was the difference.

As he stared up into the sky, he realized that the last song on his playlist had come to an end. It had to be morning by now.

He hadn't even thought about how he was going to get back out of the cloud. During their demonstrations, Bunsen had always just downloaded him back onto the stage, making it as simple - yet still painful - as anything. But Bunsen didn't even know he was here. No one did.

"Bunsen?" Beaker called out helplessly. He waited, not knowing why he expected an answer. But everything in the cloud was silent.

Until he felt himself being pulled downward, falling headfirst through miles and miles of vapor. The place he landed was soft and bright again, but this time, it was familiar. He'd crashed right onto Bunsen's bed.

Bunsen was putting his tie on in front of the mirror, almost finished getting ready for the day. There was an airiness in his voice when he spoke, as if Beaker had simply strolled in through the front door. "Good morning, Beakie!"

"Wh- how-"

"I got an alert that you were in the cloud. So I downloaded you," Bunsen smiled. "Really now, you can't be dilly-dallying around in there when we have so much work to d-"

Beaker groaned as he tried to sit up. Still too weak, he collapsed back onto the bed, panting. Bunsen turned to him, finally taking him in. Recognition dawned on his face at every injury and indignity and impalement.

"Oh, dear. What happened to you?"

Beaker looked away. "You did."

"Well, then, that means I can fix you too." Bunsen sat beside him on the bed, and now there was nowhere else to look but at Bunsen's face looming over him. "You're going to have to explain yourself, though."

"I will," Beaker said quietly.

Bunsen got to work, healing Beaker as well as he always did. Beaker lay there, Bunsen's hands on every broken part of him, until he was put back together.

And Beaker told him everything. _Everything._

* * *

That night, Beaker still couldn't sleep peacefully, even though he had every reason to now. Trying his best not to wake Bunsen, who was snickering softly in his sleep, Beaker untangled himself from his embrace and crept out into the kitchen.

Beaker plugged in every appliance that Bunsen had needlessly converted into a smart device, bracing himself for the worst each time. The coffee machine, the blender, the popcorn maker. All perfectly ordinary - well, as ordinary as you could get with Bunsen. None of them tried to kill him. He was safe.

He crawled back into bed, remembering how it felt to hear Bunsen say he loved him too, and he slept soundly for the first time in months.


End file.
